


Releasing the Die-Cast

by TreesOfAsh



Series: Erebor's Pebbles [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Baby Durins, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Bilbo doesn't handle labour well, Childbirth, Do Not Separate The Heirs Of Durin, F/M, Fluff, Fíli is a good bro, He's a nervous new father, Implied/Referenced miscarriage, Implied/referenced pregnancy loss, Khuzdul, Kíli has a panic attack, Kíli loves his wife, M/M, MGiME, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Past Miscarriage, Past Pregnancy Loss, Pregnancy, This is a happy story, Thorin is a Good Uncle, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, You can't convince me otherwise, bagginshield, but he's okay, but it's not the focus, everyone is okay, i guess?, they come out like salt and pepper shakers, use of khuzdul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:35:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24783223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreesOfAsh/pseuds/TreesOfAsh
Summary: A prequel to "Erebor's Pebbles", though you don't really need to read that one first. This is how Kíli's children made their dramatic entrance into the world, scaring their father in the process.Really, this should have been their first clue that the twins were going to be a handful.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli & Kíli (Tolkien), Kíli (Tolkien)/Original Character(s)
Series: Erebor's Pebbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792540
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49





	Releasing the Die-Cast

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys, so there's some potential trigger warnings in this one. There's implied/referenced past pregnancy loss due to a miscarriage, and Kíli has a little panic attack but Fíli gets him calmed back down. This is overall a happy story, with a happy ending.   
> Khuzdul translations at the bottom. Please enjoy!

The hall was beautiful. The polished stone gleamed, gold inlay glittered, and even the crowd (bejewelled as they were) seemed to sparkle. Happiness and good cheer were contagious and spread through Thorin’s people like wildfire as they celebrated yet another Durin’s Day under the Mountain. The King himself stood in front of the throne, Bilbo at his side, gesturing and projecting his voice across the cavernous room. His speech was in Khuzdul, which meant that Elenor understood perhaps every other word, but the pride and encouragement was evident even in another language. Thorin had always been good at speeches, rallying or otherwise. To his right, a couple steps down in deference, stood Fíli. He looked every inch the regal Prince, one had on the pommel of the sword at his hip and the other hooked around his belt. And on Thorin’s left, also a couple steps down, stood her husband. Kíli looked radiant in his happiness as well, eyes scanning the crowd. Had she not been the one to wrestle those braids into his hair and force the circlet over his brow that very morning, she probably would have been more inclined to be impressed by his form. But she had been, and the effect was ruined by the echoes of his complaints about how the formal wear tugged and pinched.

Elenor smiled from her spot at the foot of the throne’s dais. She stood at the bottom step, her mother-in-law standing proudly beside her and her sister, Delores, in the front row of the crowd in front of them. Just behind her, she could practically feel the ever-present shadow of her guard. A necessary evil, she wasn’t exactly pleased to have her every move followed, but she knew why. Erebor had been reclaimed years ago, yes, and restoration was in constant progress, but the line of succession was barely cemented. Thorin was assured to rule for many decades to come, and Fíli stood poised to succeed him- but should something happen, Fíli’s only assured heir was his own brother.

For now.

Elenor’s hand smoothed the front of her dress over her belly, a familiar warmth flooding her. The mountain had rejoiced with the Royal Family at her and Kíli’s announcement, and the feasting had lasted days. Bombur had been beside himself, funnelling at his excitement into the kitchens. Kíli’s beaming smile hadn’t really diminished at all, if she was being honest. This wouldn’t be the first baby born in the newly reclaimed Erebor-thank Mahal for his generosity-but this would be their first. There was no danger now, not this time. She smiled gently to herself, pulling away from a mental road she had worried down far too many times already. This pebble was safe.

And then, there was an entirely new kind of warmth spreading… down. Elenor’s hand froze, cupping the bottom of her bump. Actually, all of Elenor froze except for the trickle of liquid currently making its way down her legs. Her breath caught, her smile felt plastered, and her eyes began watering in protest to the lack of blinking. She could have been standing like that for a minute or seconds, eyes unseeing as the entire world shrunk to her person. Thorin became a distant echo, the cheering of the crowd a far away rumble, and her heartbeat seemed to thunder in her ears.

_Did I just pee myself in front of the entirety of the Kingdom_?

And then she was back, snapping into reality like an elastic stretched too far. No one was looking at her but her sister, who was staring at her concernedly. Her frozen smile cracked and she was sure what was intended as a comforting grin was more of a grimace. And then a painful squeezing wrapped around her.

_Not a bladder issue, then._

She felt her own eyes widen, and the grimace fall off her face. She had never quite gotten the hang of schooling her features like Dis, and she was beginning to regret that. Delores was looking downright panicked by the point, and like she was going to break rank and rush across the space towards the Royal family propriety be damned. Elenor caught her frantic eye and shook her head minutely. She had been cramping since early yesterday evening, but the back pain had felt manageable and she had been sure it had just been from running around the last few days getting ready for today. She had been wrong, it seemed.

She canted her head over her shoulder slightly, just enough to catch the attention of her guard. The dwarf, Glir, was leaning forward immediately. He was a good dwarf, never hovering like some of the other guards were wont to do, and good conversation when she felt inclined.

“Yes, Your Highness?” He murmured, just loud enough for her to hear him over the din.

“I need to leave, Glir.” She murmured back, looking down at her shoulder so she could see him out of the corner of her eye without drawing attention to herself. She watched his face twitch, the only outward sign of confusion.

“I do believe the King is set to finish speaking any moment now, ma’am, can you wait?” He asked. She felt a flash of irritation as another contraction, it had to be that as none of her cramps had ever been so painful, squeezed. He wasn’t thinking of propriety, she knew that- he was thinking about how difficult it would be to get her out of the room while she was still on the dais. The kingdom was flying high on good spirits now, but that could turn quickly to concern if the woman carrying the current Heir Presumptive to the throne was ushered out in the middle of a ceremonial address. And concern could grow into more, large crowds could be so unpredictable….She grit her teeth.

“Yes.”

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes later. But it felt like an eternity. She rationalized to herself that no one could possibly see the damp left by her waters breaking- she wore so many petticoats under an already dark blue gown, and it hadn’t felt like much. She had a couple more contractions, though she was expecting them this time and able to keep some semblance of composure. She hadn’t trained specifically as a midwife during her career, but she knew enough to try and time them as best she could.

So she waited. She winked at her sister, who still looked far too suspicious, and tried her best not to look at Kíli in case he saw something wrong in her face. He had always been too good at reading her, and far less reserved than his brother. He wouldn’t hesitate to come down from his spot if he deemed it necessary, and over the past few months anything he thought would help her in some way was always _necessary_.

And then, the crowd began cheering. Thorin had finally, finally, finished. He strode down the steps, and down the aisle with Bilbo’s hand atop his regally. Fíli followed closely, and Kíli waited long enough to tuck her hand into his elbow before following, Dis behind them.

“What’s wrong?” Kíli asked out of the corner of his mouth. She smiled at some of the dwarrow she recognized as they passed, trying to ignore the cling of her petticoats.

“Not now.” She murmured back through a smile.

Soon, but not soon enough, their family was out of the hall and in a private anteroom for a quick break before the feast.

No sooner had the door closed behind them than Elenor leaned against the polished stone wall, another contraction coming on. She bit back a low groan, but it wasn’t enough.

“Elenor? Elenor!” Kíli was exclaiming even before the contraction had reached its apex. Elenor squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep her breathing even and ride through it as comfortably as possible now that she didn’t have hundred of eyes on her. Kíli clutched at her, one hand cupping her elbow and the other rubbing small circles at her hip. He was trying to get her to answer his questions, but she just ignored him. She was busy, and had a long night ahead of her apparently, she could take a couple minutes to herself thanks.

“What’s happening? _Amad_?” Elenor heard him asking when she didn’t answer. Her contraction eased off as a second, gentler set of hands cupped her face. She opened her eyes to see Dis leaning over her. When had she sat down?

“Is it time, _nâthu_?” She asked gently, stroking a thumb over Elenor’s cheekbone. So unlike Dis’ regular, no-nonsense attitude. It was something she shared with Thorin. Elenor exhaled and nodded her head.

“I think so.” She whispered. Kíli’s fingers tightened, and Elenor was acutely aware of the silence. Dis rubbed her cheek one more time before straightening with a nod.

“Right. Glir, please fetch Oin and send for the Men’s midwives from Dale.” She crossed the room to pull on the heavy rope by the fireplace, and a servant materialized almost instantaneously.

“Ah, Nuik. Good. Please run up to the Royal Suites and have Prince Kíli and Princess Elenor’s room turned down and supplied with clean sheets, and ask the Princess’ attendant to put out a clean shift. And then go to the kitchen and ask Bombur to begin boiling water- lots of it.” Nuik nodded once and disappeared again.

“My sister-“ Elenor started, but Dis interrupted her with a small smile and a shake of her head.

“I’ll fetch her, don’t fret.”

“I’ll come with you!” Bilbo added, wringing his hands and shifting nervously from foot to foot. And then they were gone too, a swirl of Dis’ skirts whipping around the door. And Elenor was alone in the room with her husband, who was seemingly a block of stone; her brother-in-law, who was slumped in a chair staring at her as though he had never seen her before; and the King of Erebor, who had raised both of them like his own. Thorin smiled at her a little, and she couldn’t help smiling shakily back at him. Thorin wasn’t mean, not by any shot, but his smiles were rare and even rarer when she was blessed with one just for her. He crossed the room in a few long strides, and cuffing her husband around his ears.

“Snap to it, Kíli, help me get your wife off the floor. Unless you want your son born here?” He said gruffly. That snapped Kíli out of his stupor and together they helped her get to her feet. Kíli immediately turned her towards the door, but Thorin shook his head.

“No, we’ll take the servant’s stairway. Quieter that way.”

“That’s a good plan.” Elenor breathed, relieved. She could hear how full the hall was, and didn’t relish the idea of having to put her ‘Royalty Mask’ back on. As it was, she wasn’t looking forward to any of the many, many, many stairs in Erebor but there wasn’t another choice in the matter.

Fíli pulled back the curtain covering the servant’s door, and then they were off. The stairs were narrower here, so Fíli trailed behind them as Kíli and Thorin tried to get her up the winding stairs. Thorin took the steps sideways in front of them, one hand on the rail and the other grasping her hand gently. Kíli pressed into her side, one arm around her widened waist and the other holding her skirts out of her way, pressing kisses into her shoulder and whispering words of encouragement that his family was kind enough not to tease him for at the moment.

She wasn’t sure how long they had been climbing the stairs, only that she was now out of breath and sweaty despite their slow pace, and she had made it through a few more contractions.  
“That’s it, _Ghivashel_ , just a few more until the landing. You can do it, _Amrâlimê._ ” he whispered, and when she finally made it to said landing, her body pulled another contraction out of her. She leaned on Kíli heavily, thanking God or Mahal or any of the Valar at this point that despite being shorter than her, her husband was sturdier and didn’t bend under her weight.

“Curse the size of this damned mountain,” She muttered, “couldn’t you have found a slightly smaller rock to populate?” three amused chuckles answered her, and Kíli pressed another kiss against her skin.

“Would you like me to carry you the rest of the way, my wife?” He asked and she looked at him. He wasn’t joking, eyes earnest and searching hers. She bumped his forehead with hers affectionately (a dwarrow habit she had been more than happy to adopt) and then kissed his nose.

“Kíli, I am surprised you can move under all those layers and armour and weapons already. No, my love, but thank you.” She replied before righting herself. He looked like he was about to argue with her, so she distracted him by climbing a couple more steps. By the next landing, though, she was panting through yet another contraction and was seriously beginning to hate the thick velvet gown.

“Alright, that’s enough of this.” Kíli said, and she looked up at him just in time to see him begin stripping off his circlet and outer tunic.

“Kíli, what-“ but she couldn’t focus on getting the words out. By the time her contraction was over, Kíli had made short work of his chainmail, several underlayers, and several knives and his ceremonial sword. He left them in a pile on the ground before sweeping her up, skirts and petticoats and baby bump and all, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back.

“Kíli, you’re going to hurt yourself!” She protested weakly, but he was already taking the next set of stairs two at a time.

“Nonsense. What are all those pushups and laps around the training grounds good for if I can’t get my wife to her childbed?” He brushed her off.

“Oh, I’ll just clean all this up for you, shall I brother?” Fíli called up after them.

“Thanks, brother!” Kíli called back down, and Fíli’s amused huff echoed back up after them.

* * *

The hallway in front of the rooms Kíli shared with his wife was busy with servants. Servants carrying clean bedding, clean towels, and pails of clean steaming water. The doors to their rooms were already open, and he carried Elenor in. The room smelled like Oin’s infirmary, and indeed there were more servants wiping all manner of surfaces down with cleaners.   
“Elenor!” Delores and his mother stood in the middle of the room, but immediately swept forward when they entered. He put Elenor down, hands on her waist to keep her steady.

“Hello Delly.” Elenor said, and was pulled into a hug.

“Quite the time for this little one to make his big debut.” Delores smiled gently, and Elenor snorted.

“He has his daddy’s good timing.” She quipped, and Kíli scoffed exaggeratedly.

“I have excellent timing, thank you!” He protested, relishing in Elenor’s giggle.

“Come, dear, let us get you out of that dress. We have something more comfortable for you here.” Dis tugged her out of his arms gently and towards a privacy screen in the corner of the room that he was sure hadn’t been there when they had left this morning. Kíli started after them, but Delores pressed a hand into his chest.

“Kíli, can you find a tunic of yours, or perhaps your cloak? We’ve changed the bedding and moved the fur from the bed, but I’d like her to have something of yours during.” And then she was gone. Around him the room was beginning to empty, servants finishing their tasks and depositing their goods where they were needed. He crossed the room to the closet and began rooting around for something suitable. Behind him, he heard Elenor’s low groans as another contraction overtook her, and his heart squeezed.

He was so unused to not being able to keep her from pain, from harm. Even on the quest he had at least been able to _try_ and keep her safe and defended from whatever enemy they faced down, and had been able to kiss away most of the pain from whatever little injury she had gained around the mountain since reclaiming it.

But this was a battle he couldn’t defend her from. She was front and centre here, and even though he knew she was strong enough to bring their little one into this world fighting, he didn’t like how much pain it was causing her. He couldn’t be her shield here, but he could be her support. He could be the strength in her armour and the sturdiness in her leathers. He couldn’t fight this for her, but he would help in any way he could.

So he pulled out a well-worn, faded blue tunic that looked dusty despite how many time it had been washed. He would probably never wear it again, but couldn’t stand to get rid of it. It was one of the undershirts he had worn during the journey to reclaim their home, and had survived (more or less). It had gotten him through the Shire, the Goblins, the river that carried them from the Mirkwood. It was also the one that Elenor had peeled off of him the first time they had made love, the one he had bundled her up in when it had gotten too cold in the mountain during those first few days. When it had just been them and the Company, able to sneak away to just about anywhere for a few stolen moments. It was the one he had worn when he proposed to her the first time, just before they had run out into battle and he had felt the first tremors of fear. Not for himself, but at the idea he may never see her again. If he hadn’t been meant to live, or if she hadn’t, they would never have met in the next life. She wouldn’t have been granted entry to the halls of his ancestors, not without taking his hand at best and at worst, on a prayer, without his promise in her hair.

She had laughed at him with tears on her face and told him to ask her again when it was all over _so you even more reason to come back to me_.

And now it would be with her as she brought their child into this world.

He pulled it free and re-entered his bedroom, where Elenor was pacing, now clad in just a clean shift, supported by her sister and his mother. He pressed the shirt into her hands, and she smiled tearfully at him.

“Thank you, Kíli, _thank you_.” She whispered, and pressed her forehead into his. He massaged her neck and shoulders gently, and kissed her sweetly. Delores moved out of the way to let him take her place, and he helped her move around the room as their family putzed around, trying to keep busy and waiting for Oin and the midwives.

“These contractions are much closer than I would expect them to be, dear…” his mother trailed off, and Elenor sighed. Something scratched at the back of Kíli’s brain.

“ _Amrâlimê,_ didn’t you say your back was sore yesterday?” He asked slowly, not liking the direction this was going.

“…Yes. It must have been early labor, I just didn’t realize it. My sleep last night was fitful, but I thought it was just nerves for today…and then…” it was silent for a moment, and Kíli was just about to press her when Delores spoke up.

“Your petticoats were soaked.” Kíli blinked. Elenor turned a delicate shade of pink.

“Yes…my waters broke while Thorin was speaking…”

“Child, your waters broke during the ceremony?!” Dis gasped. Kíli’s brain ground to a halt, stalled, and then re-booted.  
“Your what broke when? Mahal, woman, how long were you stand there after that happened?” He asked incredulously. Before she could answer, the door was being thrown open and Oin, a couple dwarrowdams, and a couple of the Men’s midwives were rushing in.

“Alright, lassie, lets see how long we’ve got.” Oin said, and his wife was once again ushered out of his arms. He made to follow her, but Dis placed herself firmly in his way.

“Oh no, _inùdoy_. This is not the place for you- out.” He bristled.

“ _Amad_ , she needs me here-“

“No, you think you need to be here. What she needs is to concentrate on herself and her babe, not on keeping you calm or keeping a brave face for you.”  
“I would never ask her to do that!” He argued, and she shook her head gently.

“I know, and she knows, but this is a woman’s battle and she needs the space to fight it on her own terms.” He faltered, but opened his mouth to push back when his mother cut him off again.

She leaned around him to holler at the open doorway.

“Fíli! Come get your brother!” Fíli strolled in, and Kíli scowled at his grin.

“Come, _nadad_ , out of the way now.” He cooed, as if Kíli were just a pebble again and getting underfoot. Kíli tried to pull out from under his arm, but Fíli tightened his arm until Kíli was in a headlock. This, of course, was unacceptable and Kíli scuffled, trying to elbow his way out of it.

“Boys- Boys!” And, yup- there it was. The same exasperated tone his mother had when they were kids pulling these shenanigans. They ignored her, Fíli trying (and failing) to pull him bodily from the room, and Kíli trying (and failing) to get out of the hold.

“Kee.” He stilled, and Fíli stopped tugging on him immediately. There were two people in the entire mountain that called him that, and one was currently pulling his hair. Elenor reached out for him, one hand clutching the back of on of their armchairs. Fíli let him go and Kíli barely felt his feet move forward before he was at her side.

“Kee, I’m alright…I can do this.” She whispered, and he squeezed her hand.

“Of course you can, of course you can. I just want to help…” He whispered back, and she smiled at him.

“Braid my hair, then, husband, and go with your brother. Have a couple drinks, smoke your pipe, and laugh at the bets I know the Company has going. I can handle the rest.” She re-assured him, and met his eyes.

_Are you sure?_ his asked.

_Completely._ hers answered.

So Kíli buried his hands in her hair, pulling it out of her face, and braided in plaits for _beloved_ and _warrior_ alongside the one that claimed her as a member of the Line of Durin. Beside her marriage braid, he nestled _mother_. And then she kissed him soundly, and released him into the arms of his brother who guided him from the room. Once in the hallway, he turned at the sound of her having another contraction. Before a dwarrowdam closed the door on him, smiling apologetically, he caught sight of Elenor, backlit by the fireplace and leaning on the back of the chair, one arm cupping her bump. Delores and his _amad_ were beside her, whispering in her ear and brushing her braids back over her shoulder.

Apprehension and his instinct not to leave her warred with his promise to trust her, but the door clicked shut anyways.

“Gravel and boulders, _nadad_ it’s not like she’s sailing west with the elves.” Fíli teased as they ambled down the hallway, “you’ll see her again in a few hours, hale and healthy, and a son richer.” Kíli glared at his brother, stopping in the middle of the empty hallway.  
“I should be there. She shouldn’t be doing this alone, I can’t let what happened-“ he cut himself off, gritting his teeth and glaring at nothing in particular. He wouldn’t think of that. Not now. It wasn’t right. Fíli clasped his shoulder, and he looked at his brother. They both ignored the wetness in Kíli’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, _nadad_. I… should have considered my words more carefully before I said them. I just wanted to reassure you. She will be fine, the babe will be fine. This is different.” Fíli said, somber, and Kíli nodded.

“I know…thank you.” And then Fíli was drawing him close, and Kíli buried his face in his older brother’s neck, and clutching at his tunic like they were still children. After a moment, they pulled away, and Fíli was pulling him back down the hall towards his bedroom.

“Fee, what-“

“We’re not going in. But _amad_ never said we couldn’t wait in the hall.” Fíli smirked, and Kíli grinned helplessly. What would he do without his brother?

Eventually, Thorin and Bilbo and Dwalin found them slumped against the wall opposite the doors. Thorin shook his head, while Bilbo plopped down next to Kíli and patted his hand hand comfortingly. The hobbit had more colour in his face now than he had chasing his mother out of the anteroom, Kíli noticed. Thorin peeled himself out of his fur robe and took off his crown, tossing it on top of Fíli’s finery, a pile forgotten on the floor. Then he sat on the floor too, Dwalin beside him.

Over the next few hours, most of the Company drifted in to join them. The guards knew better than to try and bar them from the Royal Suites, even when the Princess was in such a vulnerable state. Bofur tipped his hat and tossed a sack at Fíli.

“Bombur sends his regards in the usual way.” He grinned, and Fíli started to pull pastries and cookies and blocks of cheese and sausage out of the sack. Their little group cheered and passed it around, reminding Kíli strongly of their little campout on the balcony in Rivendell. A part of him ached for those times, before things got complicated and dangerous, when the title ‘Prince’ was more a formality than a real occupation with responsibilities all its own. But Kíli passed the sack without taking anything for himself when it made its way back to the beginning.

“Kíli, you need to eat lad.” Bilbo insisted, snagging the bag back and fishing out a meat tart to press into his hands. Kíli stared at it, then up at his Hobbit-Uncle.

“I’m not hungry.” And he wasn’t- his stomach clenched uneasily as he considered the tart.

“You need to keep your strength up, Kíli. She could be in there for hours yet, and she won’t thank you for fainting on her when you go to hold your little’n for the first time.” Dwalin warned. The idea that he could _drop_ the child had Kíli’s stomach dropping a couple inches, and he shoved the tart into his mouth whole. His friends, his kin, laughed uproariously around him, and he grinned around his mouthful. Bilbo pressed another morsel into his hand, and Bifur passed him a tankard of ale (when did they roll a barrel in?)

And so he let the Company distract him from his worries as best they could, and he did laugh, and he smoked, and he shook his head at the bets his family made on what name they had settled on.

And the thick stone door remained closed, and remained silent.

* * *

It had been hours. Half of the Company was asleep on the floor (Bilbo was curled up between Thorin’s knees, covered by the thick fur cape), and the other were having quiet conversations (Dori and Bifur were conversing solely in _iglishmêk_ ). Fíli was sharpening one of his blades, and Kíli was pretending to be asleep so he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone else. He was tired, he was worried, and he wanted his wife. He wanted to know how she was, but the sparse couple of times a midwife had come and gone for more water or towels he had simply been told “She’s doing well, Your Highness.” It was maddening, and if he didn’t get a real answer soon he was going to take Bofur’s mattock to the damned stone himself.

Suddenly, there was a dim shriek. Kíli startled upright, and Fíli’s hands stilled. Bilbo stirred, ears more sensitive than a dwarrow’s, but those who were asleep stayed that way. The stone had muffled most of the sound, but it was unmistakable. Kíli’s stomach turned as he processed it- Elenor had made that noise, his _wife_ had cried so loudly it came through _stone_ , and it was the first time any noise at all had come through- and he got to his feet. Fíli grabbed a hold of his knee.

“Let me go.” Kíli growled, trying to kick away, but Fíli held firm.

“Give them time, my sister-son, to handle things before you jump to conclusions and go bursting in.” Thorin rumbled, and Kíli stared at him for a moment before deflating.

“Fifteen minutes.” He grumbled, and Fíli let him go so he could pace the length of the door.

Twelve minutes later, yes he was counting thank you very much, and the door opened just enough for Dis to come through. She startled (a sure sign of how tired she must have been) at the sight of the party camped in the hallway before she laughed high and clear. Kíli didn’t really notice how her clothing was wrinkled, or how her hair was coming out of her normally sleek plaits. He focused on the tiny bundle in her arms.

“You have a son, Little Raven.” She murmured, and he reached out. She eased the babe into his arms, and patted his cheek. He didn’t even look up at her, too enamoured with his son- _his son!_

He pulled the folds of the blanket back a little further from the little one’s face. Elenor had knit it herself, growing it longer as she grew their son in her belly. It was beautiful and soft, but Kíli would admire its warmth later. His son had downy soft tufts of brown hair on his head, and fluffed down the side of his face. Kíli ran a couple of fingers through it, and smiled when he was rewarded with the babe opening his eyes. Bright blue, but he had been forewarned that they probably wouldn’t stay that way for long. He rocked slowly from side to side, trying to memorize this new little face. The newest member of his little family.

_He’s perfect_.

“Aye, he is. Ten fingers and ten toes, Mahal’s cast fell true.” Dis murmured back, and Kíli looked up in surprise. He hadn’t been aware he had said that out loud.

“And Elenor?” He asked, and Dis’ smile grew.

“Doing very well. You’ll be allowed to see her soon."

By now the entire Company was awake and staring, trying not to hover but practically vibrating with excitement. Fíli’s eyes gleamed, and Kíli beckoned him over first.

“Your nephew, _Irak’adad_.” Kíli teased softly, and Fíli choked on wet laughter.

“That’s going to take some time to get used to.” He said, and ran his own finger over the fluffy sideburns. Kíli’s son- _Mahal, his son!_ -closed his eyes and squirmed a little before letting his uncle’s ministrations lull him back to sleep.

“Congratulations, Ki-“ Thorin approached next, but was cut off by a midwife suddenly appearing in the doorway, speaking urgently.

“Princess, we need you back!” It was one of the midwives from Dale, and Kíli blanched. Her apron was covered in blood.

“Wait, what-“ But the door was already closed. Kíli curled over the bundle in his arms protectively, and his breath started coming fast and shallow. There wasn’t enough air in the room, it was feeding his panic.

There was something wrong. Very wrong. That hadn’t been a midwife pleased with the outcome of a successful birth. There hadn’t been many births in Ered Luin, but he knew what an unsuccessful one made the atmosphere feel like.

He was dimly aware of Thorin gently trying to prise his son from his arms, murmuring to him softly, and Dwalin’s warning about dropping the babe was the only thing that let him go. Then his head was being jerked up so he was looking at Fíli’s face. His brother held his chin with one hand, and used his other to place one of Kíli’s on his chest. There was a buzzing in his ears that prevented him from hearing what his older brother was saying, but he got the gist when Fíli started taking slow, exaggerated breaths. He did his best to match his breathing, and the spots in his vision began to fade away.

“…there you go, in and out. Deep breaths, _nadadith_ , in time with me…” Eventually, Kíli came back to himself, and Fíli clapped his shoulder.

“It’ll be alr-“ Dori started, and Kíli knew he was just trying to comfort him but it was too much. Everything was too much.

“Don’t finish that sentence.” He snarled, and the other dwarf shrunk back at the sudden agitation. Kíli whirled away, letting Fíli smooth things over, and made a beeline for his Uncle and son.

“Sit, Kíli, then you can have him back. You’re shaking like a leaf.” Bilbo directed him gently, and he followed without a word. The shaking eased when he sat, and he felt more grounded with the little bundle in his arms again. He stroked his thumb over the babe’s forehead. He hadn’t woken up with all the fuss Kíli had made, and he was glad. He saw Thorin’s boots come closer out of the corner of his eye, and a moment later a large hand was carding through his hair. Kíli didn’t let his eyes close with the sudden tiredness that filled the spaces adrenaline and panic had abandoned. His thoughts swirled with prayers for his wife.

_Mahal, please. Please. Spare her, if you can. It’s too soon. I need her. My son needs her. I- I can’t do this by myself. Please._

Kíli kept his focus on his son, praying desperately, and Thorin’s hand continued to smooth his hair back. Fíli crouched beside him and fiddled with a corner of his nephew’s blanket. The Company waited, silently.

Kíli didn’t pay attention to how much time passed. He punctuated each breath with a prayer, and let himself drift in hope and desperation.

And then finally, finally, the door opened again. Kíli’s head shot up, and the midwife’s eyes found him immediately. She wasn’t wearing an apron at all, bloody or otherwise.

“The Princess is well. You can see her now.” She said simply, clasping her hands in front of her and smiling. Kíli didn’t demand an explanation, didn’t hesitate. He just got to his feet as quickly as he could without jostling the little one too much and rushed passed everyone to get in the room.

Elenor looked up when he came in, and he stopped for a moment, feet frozen.

She was reclining against their mountain of pillows, covered to her waist by their sheets. She had obviously been cleaned up because she wore a new shift, but her skin and hair were damp- with sweat or water he couldn’t tell. She looked exhausted, but she smiled widely at him. He felt his own grin spread.

“Mahal, you are so beautiful my wife.” He said, dropping down to sit on the edge of their bed.

“Flatterer.” She accused lovingly, and raised a hand to rub at the hair growing on his chin. He kissed her palm gently.

“I would speak these truths and more for the rest of our lives, if I thought it enough thanks for blessing me with our son.” He said, and her eyes watered.

“Then I wonder what your gratefulness will beget when you see your daughter.” She whispered, and he blinked.

“I was told this was a little lad-“ He started, looking down at the sleeping babe and then back at his wife. She pointed to the end of the bed, and he craned his neck over his shoulder to gawk at Delores. She held another bundle, identical in size. He was speechless as his sister-in-law came around the bed to put it into Elenor’s outstretched arms.

“Kíli, my heart, this is your daughter.” Elenor said, and Kíli gaped for a moment more.

“Two- a daughter- ?!” He forced out, and Elenor giggled at him. He choked on a laugh that quickly turned into a sob, and she wiped his tears away.

He kissed her, then, gently and deep and sweetly, their little family between them.

He pulled away and met her eyes, which were shining with her own unshed tears, before looking down at his daughter. She was wide awake, eyes roving around. Light blonde down coloured her head and jaw like her brother’s darker fuzz, and he ran a finger through it too. She squirmed a little, and a hand with the tiniest fingers he had ever seen popped out of…

“Is that my tunic?” He laughed quietly, and Elenor giggled along with him.

“I didn’t knit a second blanket!” She defended, and he tucked the small hand back into the warmth of her makeshift blanket.

“I love you.” He told Elenor, “I love you so, so much. You have given me a greater blessing then I first realized, you strong woman. My beautiful, strong, immovable wife. Thank you.” A couple of tears dropped off of her eyelashes, but she didn’t break down like he had. Even after the battle of childbirth, she was more steadfast than he and he was so proud of her.

“My children, can I welcome the rest of your visitors in?” His mother asked from the doorway, and Kíli and Elenor exchanged a glance.

“Please do, _amad_.” Elenor said, and it was Dis’ turn for shiny eyes. Which she of course hid by turning and immediately swinging the door open.

Fíli, Bofur, Ori and Nori stumbled into the room, having apparently been leaning on the door. The rest sauntered in, and Thorin and Bilbo quickly made their way up by the golden prince.

Fíli, however, was standing stock-still and gaping. He pointed at them, princely reservation failing him.

“Two?!” He cried, and Kíli threw his head back in laughter. He got to his feet, still clutching his son.

“My King… Uncle. I’m proud to introduce you to my son… and my daughter.” He said, and Thorin’s smile was blinding.

“You have my congratulations, nephew. And my thanks, niece, for bringing them into the world safely. May Mahal keep them, and you, in his protection.” And then, formality over with, he crossed to the bed and gently pressed his forehead to Elenor’s. Kíli heard his uncle whisper something to her, and Elenor’s smile deepened. Her eyes glittered again, and she closed them to press a little more firmly into his uncle. And then Thorin was drawing away to look down at the little dam, and the moment ended. Kíli raised an eyebrow over the heads of his Company, who were stooping to coo over the little one in his own arms. She just smiled and shook her head as Thorin eased their daughter into Bilbo’s arms, rumbling softly at her.

And then Balin was calling his name from Elenor’s desk, where he and Oin were fussing with paperwork.

“Do you have names prepared?”

* * *

“It is with great pride that I formally introduce the newest members of the Line of Durin, born to my sister-son Kíli and his wife Elenor, Presumptive Heirs to the Throne of Erebor, Víli son of Kíli and Tíli daughter of Kíli.”

Elenor and Kíli stood proudly hand in hand in front of the throne, a babe each, as the kingdom cheered for their family.

**Author's Note:**

> Khuzdul, from the Dwarrow Scholar mostly but others are commonly used in the fandom:
> 
> Amad: Mother  
> Nâthu: Daughter  
> Ghivashel: Treasure of all treasures  
> Amrâlimê: My love  
> Inùdoy: Son  
> Nadad: Brother  
> iglishmêk: Dwarrow Sign Language  
> Irak'adad: Uncle  
> Nadadith: Little Brother


End file.
